At the same time.
With Si Yuheng and his group leaving, the corridor of the patient care unit returned to silence.
Huo Zhenyang pushed open the outer door of the ICU and walked inside.
Inside the ward, only the faint ticking sounds of the medical equipment remained, as there were no other noises.
Even the breathing of the person on the bed was so weak it was pitiful, like a broken thread.
He knelt down, his gaze fixed on Jiayi's body. The white gauze wrapped around her head made her face appear even more delicate. Her crystalline, translucent skin, her eyelashes drooping down, her eyes tightly shut—there was no hint of them opening.
The rough pads of his fingers gently brushed against her soft cheek, and her skin was chilly to the touch, sending a shiver through him, as if blood had stopped flowing through her veins.
